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  • Streaming + Download

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  • Buy the Full Digital Album

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    We here at the Traveling Show, being the anachronists that we are, still believe in physical media! What else are you going to listen to in the car when your iPhone dies, huh? The RADIO? Don't make me laugh. If you're gonna get our awesome EP "The Collateral Vignettes," you might as well have a copy to keep in the car for such dire circumstances.

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about

It's a tale as old as time: Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy asks girl out, girl is killed in a fiery nuclear holocaust.

lyrics

The radio plays the new Top 40,
To the two of us, fucked up and horny,
We park in back of our high school,
Hands tugging blindly at belt loops

First firebombing lights up our figures,
Our breath still frozen on the windows,
Trigger finger pinched on your waistline,
I’ve never dreamed of a more perfect way to die.

The radio plays its final broadcast,
An air raid siren; a distant plane crash.
You drive me back to my dad’s house,
My fingertips on your back,

How’d I let you leave without a final squeeze,
A breath drawn tight and no mess to leave,
But I’m shaking still while you pull out
My eyes are dry while my eardrums bleed

Before the bombs started to fall,
You said you’d give me a call
When you got home safe,
Well it’s been six days
And my phone stays silent.
I had something to tell,
Before they blew us all to hell,
And it’s that I’m yours,
And I’ll be waiting for you on
Detroit, Christmas Island.

A man came in black with a note to carry,
Sixes on the back, it was a page from your diary,
Tale of how I came with an awkward charm
But it ends before a sentence asking will this last long?

I shout, “Bring her back, I’ve gotta know where her love’s at,”
The city dead to rotting and a pain like a heart attack
Fills me with the heat of the wall of flame
That I see nightly in my dreams coming to take you away

They pile the dead high in this town,
And wonder why I linger around,
My gas mask on and a note in my pocket,
Hope I never see the face I wrote it for,
I hope I never have to leave it at a dead girl’s door.

credits

from The Collateral Vignettes, released October 29, 2014
Written and performed by Dalton Deschain and the Traveling Show
Recorded, Mixed, and Produced by Dalton Deschain
Mastered by Don Fury

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Dalton Deschain New York, New York

Dalton Deschain & the Traveling Show are a pulp-punk band from NYC that tell stories loudly. Get ready for a weird-ass tale about circus freaks, nuclear war, and demonic possession that you can sing along to. Visit daltondeschain.com for details.

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